The Other Pierce Girl
by Maybe I'm Not Okay
Summary: Yvaine is Katherine's older sister. She was once the one adored by the Salvatore brothers, friends with Stefan and lovers with Damon. Katherine used their friendship to capture the Salvatores' hearts. Yvaine comes to Mystic Falls. Can friends be re-found?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned the Vampire Diaries, would I seriously be here?**

**SUMMARY: Yvaine Iliana Pierce is Katherine's older sister.**** She was once the one adored by the Salvatore brothers, friends with Stefan and lovers with Damon. Katherine used their friendship to capture the Salvatores' hearts. Yvaine comes to Mystic Falls. Can old friends be re-found? **

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_Dark eyes stared down at her, their usual hardness softened as a smile graced his angelic features. A sun-kissed feminine hand reached for his dark hair, gently pushing it from his face as she ran a thumb over his smooth cheek. Her dark midnight blue bodice clung to her body like a second skin, whereas the skirt flowed out delicately. She smiled as his lips gently pressed against hers, pulling away at the sound of a feminine voice._

"_Damon." Katherine purred._

_Yvaine glared at her younger sister sharply, biting back a growl as she studied her beloved's face. She took into account his widened eyes which were currently scanning her younger sister's body. _

"_Hello Katherine." _

_Damon spoke simply, smiling at her in the way that he would so often stare at Yvaine. Her heart tugged as she noticed the recognition and obvious attraction between them. Now she knew how Stefan felt. Yvaine could feel Katherine's glare piercing her face at the thought of Stefan. Katherine cleared her throat._

"_If you'll excuse us Damon, I must speak with my sister."_

Yvaine sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding in her ears. That was the day that everything changed. Forever. Her head snapped to the side, her violet eyes falling upon the small painting of him. Damon Salvatore. She sighed, her heart wrenching in her chest as she ran a hand through her newly-trimmed white blonde hair that clung to her back. She blinked once, twice, her long lashes brushing her cheeks as she tried to erase the memories that flooded from the locked door in the back of her mind. After a few minutes of collecting herself, she pulled off the covers that had melded around her once sleeping form and swung her long slender legs off the bed. Her bare feet were silent on the mahogany floors, padding towards the en-suite. Her feminine hands rested on either side of the sink, the cold marble bringing her back from her memories of what had been, her hopes of what could have been. Her violet eyes were narrowed, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. Her pale blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders to the small of her back, her porcelain skin glowing in the light emitted by the light bulb that hung from the ceiling. She sighed, holding back the desire to throw something at the mirror.

She turned back to the hotel suite, walking towards the window seat and sitting down. A blue blanket was wrapped around her shoulders; covering her pyjamas (which consisted of faded pink plaid shorts and a grey tank top). The fabric of the seat was soft to the touch, soothing to Yvaine's bare skin. Her index finger and thumb absentmindedly twirled a loose thread from the stitching, her eyes staring blankly at the street below. As the sun rose, she smiled at the warm feeling it left on her skin, staring down at her ring. The lapis lazuli was embedded in the gold band, its startling blue catching the sunlight as she rejoiced in the delight of the sun. Compared to the sunsets her and Damon shared, the delight was hollow and cold, but she threw the memories to the back of her mind, leaving them to gather dust and disappear, like a book that has been stored in a library for way too long. She sighed, her eyes slowly closing as she surrendered to sleep.

She awoke an hour later to the loud hustle and bustle of the Parisian streets below. Despite the fact that the Hotel du Louvre was a five star hotel, the sounds of Paris were too great for even the thick walls of the hotel to block out. Her right hand clasped the handle of the closed window, twisting it slightly and pushing the window open. It creaked and the breeze brushed her porcelain skin, tickling the roots of her hair as it swirled around her. The fingers of her left hand curled around the cold silver locket that hung on a silver chain around her neck, fumbling with the clasp of the chain and removing it from her neck. She opened the locket, staring at the small oval portrait of her wrapped in Damon's arms, his smile lighting up the room momentarily. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears that she knew were coming, but it was no use. One found its way past her defences, dwindling on her smooth cheek as she quickly moved to brush it away. It had been five-hundred years of this permanent pain, this overpowering guilt, and she refused to cry. Three loud knocks pulled her back to reality as a female voice spoke.

"Room service!"

Yvaine stood up, walking to the other side of the room as her fingers clasped the cold brass handle and pulled open the ivory door, allowing the maid access. The maid was plump, with brown hair that was pulled into a bun and grey eyes. She immediately began walking around the room, fixing anything that was out of place before she walked into the en suite. Yvaine breathed a sigh of relief, mentally thanking the Gods that she had not broken the mirror earlier. She studied the room. It was relatively tidy; books standing upright on the shelves; bed made; bin empty. She had not even touched the mini bar. The only thing out of place was the cerulean blue blanket that she had abandoned on the window-seat upon the maid's arrival. She walked towards the window seat, picking up the blanket and slinging it over her right arm as something fell and thudded on the floor. She frowned and bent down, noticing the open locket. But this time, it was not the portrait that caught her eye. No, it was the engraving on the back. She had never noticed it before. She read it, running a finger over it as she repeated the words over and over in her mind, before voicing them out loud.

"Io ti amerò per sempre."

Her words are just a whisper, as her heart lurched in her chest after she translated it. _I will always love you._ She wanted to cry, but she refused to. _But he didn't keep that promise, did he Yvaine?_ A part of her brain said. It took the voice of Katherine, which made Yvaine's anger just increase, until she growled louder than she ever had before. She heard the maid scream and turned on her heel, running to the door and closing it, before the poor maid could even blink. Yvaine's violet eyes caught the maid's grey and she began to compel her.

"You will forget that just happened. You were just leaving."

She muttered, releasing the maid.

"Well miss, if you'll excuse me, I must be going."

The maid said, opening the door and walking out, closing it behind her. Yvaine sighed, taking all her anger and focusing it on all of her powers, smirking as she felt them grow stronger. She looked back down at the locket, closing it and wrapping it around her neck. She tightened the clasp, folding the blue blanket and placing it in one of the suitcases, before opening the other. After digging around for a while, she found what she wanted.

Ten minutes later, she was dressed in a light blue, chocolate brown and white top, with dark blue skinny jeans, brown flats and a brown suede waistcoat. Her white blonde hair was cascading to the small of her back, a single braid hanging loosely by the side of her face. She was wearing both her locket and the very ring which protected her, as well as a pair of lapis lazuli earrings. After checking over her appearance in the mirror, she grabbed her suitcases and left her hotel suite, walking down the stairs like the most practised dancer would. When she arrived at the front desk, she tapped the bell –internally wincing at the chime- and drummed her manicured nails on the marble of the desk as she waited. A few moments later, a man appeared. He looked to be around twenty five, with wavy blonde hair and dark blue eyes. By his expression alone, you could tell he was a ladies' man. Yvaine didn't so much as bat an eyelash at him. She could see him size her up out of the corner of her eye and she rolled her eyes, putting the keys to her suite on the marble desktop.

"J'aimerais vérifier s'il vous plaît."

She said simply. He gave her a winning smile as he took the keys and she handed him her credit card. He looked down at it, studying the name. It was one of the few times she used her real name, but she would renew it in a few months or so with a new name, so it did not matter.

"Eey-Van?"

He asked, his French accent thick. Yvaine stifled laughter, shaking her head.

"Non, monsieur, Yvaine."

She corrected. He nodded, gesturing to the device in which the credit card was inserted. Yvaine sighed, punching in four numbers. After a moment, he removed it and smiled at her, obviously expecting her to swoon or try to kiss him or some bull like that.

"Au-revoir."

She simply said, taking her suitcases with ease and leaving the hotel. This was her last day in Paris. She would miss it; the Eiffel Tower; the loud streets; the amazing boutiques... But she would not stay any longer. She had been there for three years, spending every six months in a different hotel, and her heart yearned for adventure. Sure, she loved France, but something in her heart drew her away from her, to a town that she had not visited for so long. Mystic Falls, Virginia. Oh, how she had loved it there. She had visited after the Salvatore Brothers' deaths, it was her place for mourning and releasing her pain. She remembered the balls; all the fancy dresses and suitors to dance the night away with. She smiled at the thought, wandering aimlessly through the streets.

A small boutique caught her eye. 'La Belle et la Bête'. She'd learnt French through her tutor, all those years ago back in Florence, so translation came naturally to her.

"The Beauty and the Beast."

She muttered, intrigued immediately. She walked towards it, opening the door and smiling at the shop attendants. She studied the shop, smiling. There were racks upon racks of dresses. Yvaine never had been a very dressy girl –she found dresses annoying and only wore them in the past because there was nothing else to wear- but these dresses were beautiful. There were ball gowns, mini dresses, dresses that clung to your body, dresses that were loose and flowing. One in particular caught her eye. It looked much like one she used to wear back when the Salvatores' were alive. It was a dark navy blue, made of silk. On the top of the bodice, several diamonds (which she could tell were real just by looking at them) and silver threads were embroidered, glittering in the light. Parts of the skirt were pinned together, creating a slight bow effect and more diamonds glimmered underneath every bow. She gasped, running her fingers over the silk.

"You have good taste."

A feminine voice -thick with a French accent- said behind her. She spun on her heel, looking at the French woman who she guessed was the shop owner.

"Tis beautiful, is it not?"

The woman added, stepping around Yvaine and running her fingers over the silk of the skirt. Yvaine nodded.

"It is."

She agreed. Her fingers found the price tag and she flipped it over, her eyes not even widening at the price (much to the store owner's surprise). _One thousand euros. Meh, I've had more expensive._ She thought to herself, taking the hanger off the rack and throwing the dress over her arm. She walked towards the changing rooms and stripped, pulling on the beautiful dress. It fit her perfectly, like a second skin, and reminded her of that day when she realised that her beloved Damon loved her sister. After all, the dress was kind of similar. She sighed at this memory, locking it back up behind the door at the back of her mind. Pulling back the spice brown velvet curtains of the fitting cubical, she walked to the floor length mirror. She smoothed down non-existent creases, twirling in front of the mirror. The shop attendants gushed compliments to her from all sides and she smiled, returning to the cubical.

Ten minutes later, she walked out of the store with a shopping bag in addition to her suitcases. She made her way to the airport, her mind back in the 1500s. She still missed them. No matter how many times they betrayed her, she would always love them, Stefan as a brother and Damon as the lover who left her. She hated herself for that. In some strange way, she hated them too. She sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs in the departure lounge. After a while, she heard it.

"Flight 274 for Washington D.C, now boarding."

Came out over the intercom. It was repeated in French as Yvaine gathered her belongings and made her way to the gate. It annoyed her how she had to switch flights in Washington D.C, but no flights were coming out of France that went straight to Mystic Falls, or anywhere near it, for that matter, so she dealt with what was necessary. She showed the attendant her ticket and boarded the plane.

When she found her first class seat, she smirked, sat down and relaxed. Her fingers twirling the small braid, she took out her iPod from her hand luggage. Her eyes fell on the small faded green-blue book labelled 'Songs'. Most of the songs in the book could be played by piano, accompanied by vocals, but she had not written in the book for about a year. She shook her head, dispelling any thoughts of her songs for a while as she pressed shuffle on her iPod and put the earbuds in. She closed her eyes, allowing the music to overwhelm her and succumbing to the blissful silence of slumber.

When she woke, a flight attendant was offering her champagne and food. She nodded for both, taking a sip from the glass when the flight attendant had left and taking a bite of her food. It was purely an act, something that she didn't plan to keep up for too long. After a while, she finished and started randomly searching through their movies. She laughed when she saw that Twilight was in their list of movies. She selected it and began to watch, giggling throughout. _This is ridiculous. Even the whole 'sleeping in coffins' thing is closer to reality than this!_ She thought, putting her iPod in her handbag. The bag was a simple denim, faded and washed-out, but by far her favourite. Slowly, her eyes began to close and she fell asleep.

She awoke to the pilot's voice coming over the intercom.

"We will be landing shortly, please fasten your seatbelts."

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**A/N: I know what you're thinking. 'OMG, why is she starting yet another fanfic?' I actually have a good reason. Inspiration struck, and it was either I start it now or I forget it completely. I chose the first.**

**BTW, I know Yvaine looks weird, but you pronounce it 'Evaine'. Just to clear that up.**

**REVIEW?  
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	2. Chapter 2

As Yvaine looked for the correct gate, she stared down at the marble floors, trying not to watch the couples who had all been reunited. Everywhere she went, she would see his face, hear his voice. _I always said you were crazy._ Katherine's voice echoed in the back of her mind. She knew it was only a memory, but it stung like a deep wound under a faucet. Digging through her denim handbag, she pulled out the off-white flight tickets.

"Gate 26."

She muttered, frowning. Her white-blonde hair was knotted and tangled from the long flight and sleep rested in the corner of her eyes, but she still looked beautiful as ever. She certainly didn't feel that way. Her throat was raw and a deep hunger was nestled in the pit of her stomach, simply begging for the blood she so longed for. Every individual human that passed made her mouth water and she fought to keep her control, eventually resorting to holding her breath. It took her around forty-five minutes to reach the correct gate, rushing to it when she saw people boarding. After showing the flight attendant her tickets, Yvaine boarded the plane and made her way to first class. As the flight attendants went through the safety precautions, she pulled out her iPod and put in her earbuds, pressing shuffle as she searched through her bag for something to read. She pulled out Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, reading from where she left off. She'd read this book many times and could easily recite it by heart, but for some reason she still loved it. Whether it was for the story itself or just the fact that she had been close friends with the author, she did not know.

She barely noticed when the plane began to take off, instead surrounded by music and buried deep in her favourite book. One hour and seven chapters later, she was disturbed by one of the flight attendants serving her champagne. She smiled at the woman as she left, picking up the glass and taking several sips. After a while, she put her bookmark in her current place, taking out her earbuds and stuffing both her iPod and her book in her bag. She nicked an apple from the food cart that was passing by when the man pushing it wasn't looking, taking a bite and savouring the taste. She had always had a thing for apples. Damon used to laugh when he saw her eating one and would sometimes pluck one from the orchard whenever his father wasn't looking. A grin curved her lips at the blissful memory, her heart yearning to just change the past. To make sure that Damon never met her younger sister. But that was impossible. She sighed, looking at her reflection in the blank TV screen. _Would they recognise me, if they saw me now?_ She thought, frowning. But just the idea of them still being alive was impossible. _You're still here, aren't you?_ A small part of her brain whispered. She shook her head, as if doing this would dispel all thoughts of the Salvatores from her mind. They were not alive. Case closed.

But just because she had a good grip on reality didn't mean she couldn't hope and pray. She had done every day since she lost Damon and Stefan, had done ever since her world came crashing down. His words still echoed in her mind, burning like they had been branded into her brain.

"_I don't want you, I never have."_

But the words he had left unspoken gave enough away. Her sister had finally found her Achilles ' heel, and had struck. That fatal blow to her heart had been enough to smash her to smithereens. She had not seen her younger sister since 1945, which she was perfectly happy about, but she worried that one of these days, the small peace she had found would be invaded by her twisted sister.

She returned to reality when the driver announced that they would be landing shortly and she gasped. Had she really been thinking that long? The plane soon landed and she stood up, checking that all her belongings were in her bag, before walking towards the door. People were swarming the stairs and she rolled her eyes, walking down them calmly and with a grace which concealed a hidden blow, a fiery temper.

When she had collected her luggage, she began to walk out with her eyes glued to the ground. Everywhere she went, every couple she saw, her heart tugged and wrenched harder and harder. It took all her will not to just curl into a little ball in the corner and cry. But she still had an iron-strong will, and she still fought the despair. But the bad thing about looking at the floor is that you always end up slamming into someone. Yvaine fell backwards onto her butt, the contents of her handbag spilling everywhere as she looked at who she had smashed into. He had golden hair and looked athletic, with the most honest and open blue eyes. He had a tanned complexion and was tall (she noted when he stood up).

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

She said, putting up her human facade like she knew she should. She got to her knees, turning away from the boy and gathering her things. Unlike most girls' handbags, it was not stuffed with makeup and the like. Instead, it had her mobile (a Blackberry Storm 2), her iPod touch, her book of songs (which had unfortunately opened upon impact), her copy of Pride and Prejudice and a pen. Both her suitcases were still standing (she had breathed a sigh of relief at this). Masculine hands picked up her book of songs.

"I still remember the look on your face, lit through the darkness at 1:58, the words that you whispered, for just us to know, you told me you loved me, so why did you go?"

A male voice read aloud. Yvaine's eyes widened when she heard the words she had written, pulling herself to her feet in a human manor and looking at the boy. She reached for the book, not looking the boy in the eyes.

"Sorry. I was just... intrigued."

She heard his voice say. She nodded, tucking the book into her now fully-packed handbag and grabbing the suitcases, although not making any move to leave.

"Uh, I'm Matt. Matt Honeycutt." He said after a moment of awkward silence. Yvaine looked up at his face, deeply confused as to why her legs wouldn't let her walk away from this man.

"Yvaine. Yvaine... North."

She lied. She didn't know why she did, but she lied. Something told her that the surname Pierce wouldn't go down too well with this boy. He smiled at her, and it was contagious. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Well then, nice to meet you Yvaine North. Are you new to town?"

The boy who called himself Matt asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm staying with some," She hesitated "distant relatives. So I've had to move from France to come here."

Well, at least the foundations were true. Kind of. She worried a little that her small hesitation would have been noticed, but she needn't have been. Matt seemed to be distracted by the fact that she'd come from France.

"Wow. France, huh? Cool. Hey, are you transferring to Robert E. Lee High School?"

He asked. _Hell. I didn't even think about school. Eh, one little white lie couldn't hurt._ She thought. Before she knew what she was doing, she was nodding.

"Uh... yeah."

She replied.

"Great. Can't wait to see you then. Bye."

Matt replied, walking out the door. After a moment of standing rooted to the spot, Yvaine dragged her two suitcases with her, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She was greeted by warm sunshine and she smiled, ignoring the annoying noises the wheels of her suitcases made as she dragged them along behind her, instead just rejoicing in the sunlight. She hired a car, lifting her luggage into the boot and slamming it shut, before opening the door to the driver's seat and climbing in. After hearing the click of her seatbelt, she put the keys in the ignition and began to drive. About an hour and several lefts and rights later, Yvaine found the house she was looking for. It looked much like most of the houses in Mystic Falls did –the normality soothed Yvaine a little- and looked classically beautiful. She smiled, pulling up to it and parking the rental car. She went to the boot and pulled out the two suitcases, carrying them with ease. She closed to boot and scowled at the car, thankful that her Porsche was due to arrive the next day.

As Yvaine looked around, she smiled. The house had been specially built for her (although the cost was a lot less than she had expected) and so was fully furnished. The living room was modern, a plasma TV hanging on the brick walls. A black leather couch sat in front of it, with two on both sides and a white fluffy rug in the middle. All the walls were brick. The kitchen also had brick walls, with a white marble island in the middle. The floors were a deep mahogany and the counters were all white marble. Her bedroom had a cream and chocolate brown patterned wall at the back, upon which the grey double bed leaned against. The covers were white and a crimson throw rested at the end of the mattress. There were two grey throw-pillows and one red one near the cushions, with a grey bedside table, white lamp and alarm clock. A plasma TV rested on the opposite wall and the skylight was right above her bed. Two windows peered out of the house, both with window seats. In between both was a grey vanity table. A door led to her en suite, another led to her walk-in wardrobe. She didn't exactly mind how it all looked, considering most of it was only props for her human facade. But the room comforted her, just the thought of her owning even a small home soothed her rapid heart. After a moment of just staring around the room, she began to unpack. She put her clothes in the walk-in wardrobe (hanging her new dress on one of the racks), before placing a small faded book, the colour of washed out eggplant, on her bedside table. After unpacking several more of her possessions (her book of songs, her copy of Pride and Prejudice, among other things), she went downstairs. She was in the mood for a hunt, after being trapped on a plane for fifteen hours. Her thirst was draining her, bit by bit, and she could feel her powers growing weaker and weaker. She scowled, walking out the front door (after grabbing her house and car keys) and sniffing the air. Her own scent (Hibiscus and Larkspur, with a hint of Vanilla) mingled with that of the many humans in the town, which made tracking the correct victim... difficult, to say the least. But she tried. She walked without meaning to, her mind sorting through the various scents for a tasty one that would not be missed. It wasn't as easy as it may sound. Eventually, she settled on a drunk behind what she thought was a bar, who seemed to be confused. An uncharacteristic smirk graced her lips, her body switching to full-fledged hunter mode. She approached him from behind, her footsteps silent on the cold concrete ground. She grabbed his shoulders, feeling her gums ache as the fangs grew, her violet eyes stinging for a moment as they turned a rich crimson, the veins beneath them suddenly visible. Before the man could turn round, she had dug her fangs into his jugular, holding back a groan at the exquisite taste invading her mouth. His blood flowed freely down her throat, and though it was not as appetizing considering the fact that the alcohol that had intoxicated him running through his bloodstream.

After a while, she pulled away and sighed at the pale corpse lying on the ground limp. After she wiped the gore from her lips, she walked out of the alleyway, making sure not to be noticed. If only she had stuck around for a few minutes, she would have noticed the two dark haired boys walking down the street...


End file.
